Dakara... (That's Why...)
by Kei Masaki
Summary: A college-age Shinji writes of his feelings for a certain red-haired girl


Dakara.... (That's Why....)  
An Evangelion fanfic  
By Kei Masaki (lone_rurouni@earthalliance.com)  
Eva is the property of GAINAX and ADV.  
  
  
Apr. 26, 2024  
  
Why do I like you anyway?  
Huh, that's a hard one. Let's see.  
From the moment I met you, you took my breath away. Still do. At the rate you're going,  
I'll need to be put on a respirator before I'm thirty.  
All right, all right, the first thing that hit me about you was.... oh hell, you're pretty. Your  
long main of hair aloft in the wind, your eyes sparkling with mischief. Cliche as it may  
sound, you made my heart skip a beat.  
A few minutes later, you ruined the spell when you opened your damned mouth.  
Okay, okay, I retract that. I'm sorry, I just have wanted to say that for a long time. No,  
actually, when you began speaking you.... enchanted me? No. Intrigued me, that's the  
word. I wanted to know more about this girl who carried herself with such amazing  
self-assurance.  
Even when I was annoyed as hell with you for dragging me into your damned Eva and  
putting me in your damned red spare plug suit, I wanted to know more about you.  
Not that you made it easy. Always so standoffish, so arrogant. There were a select few  
you who you let see your civil side, like Hik--I mean, Horaki-san, and Kaji-san. The rest  
of us were kept at arm's length, subject to your indifference at best and contempt at worst.   
Personally, I could have done with more of the former and less of the latter.  
Now, the question any sensible person might ask it, "why the hell would you go haring  
after that psychotic Deutschlander--" (that's about the point where expletives would be  
inserted. Touji and Kensuke had a few choice ones.)   
You know, that is a good question. I'm not the brightest of people, but I've never  
considered myself an emotional masochist. Believe it or not, I know full well that there  
were--are--girls who would be more than happy to date me. You know that as well.  
Hikari. That should have worked, with her. She's almost perfect, you. Nearly as pretty  
as you, a heck of a lot nicer, much more stable. There is absolutely no reason why I  
shouldn't be attracted to her, why I shouldn't be far happier with her than with you.  
Except for one. It was a small, rather insignificant reason, one that should have been a  
plus. But it made all the difference.  
She wasn't you.  
We were together a year. I was never faking it when I was affectionate towards her, at  
least not till the last couple of months. She was my island of safe haven at a time when I  
desperately needed one. That should have been good enough, right? She was more than  
good enough, right?  
But she wasn't you.  
And that was that. I remember the night I fell in love with you. It was years before I  
realized that I had. A clear, starry, summer night, one of those rarities in Tokyo-3. Even  
more rare, you weren't shooting your mouth off. I don't think you even realized I was  
watching you; if you had, you probably would have tried to hurl me over the railing for  
being a "peeping tom."  
But I watched you. For once your expression was relaxed, free of contempt and anger.   
Your eyes held wonder instead of mocking laughter.   
I could drown in those azure eyes.  
You shivered against the slightly crisp summer wind, and for a brief crazy moment I  
imagined wrapping you in my arms, to shield you against the cold. The impulse passed  
as quickly as it had appeared, common sense reasserting itself.   
And then came the clincher. A sigh. Yes, something as simple as a sigh. Yes, something  
as simple as that can drive someone over the brink.... ahou. What's that, you ask? Same  
thing as "baka," except used around Kyoto. See, you don't know everything.  
Anyway, the sigh. For a long, eternity-spanning split-second, you had your guard down.   
You showed yourself to the world--a young girl, pushed into matters best reserved for  
people twice her age, who had experienced wonder and loss. And that was a girl I wanted  
to hold close to me for the rest of my life. It's not fair to Hikari, or to any other girl that's  
wanted me for dinner, dancing, or a tumble, but you had me sewn up long before they  
even started.  
You have no idea how freakin' irresistible you can be when you have your guard down,  
do you? Maybe you do; maybe that's why you have your guard up all the time. So no  
one can get close to you, and then hurt you.  
And somehow, you decided that you could trust me not to hurt you. At first, happiness  
warred with cynicism. "Why the hell would she want me?" "Does she really want me, or  
is she using me because I'm convenient?" Even after knowing you for seven years--hell,  
especially after knowing you for seven years--I had to ask these questions. Not to you, of  
course--kami knows you have little tolerance for delicate questions of the heart.  
Or at least I thought you had. Amazing what we learn when we know someone for years,  
and then suddenly see them in a different light. Because, sometimes--not nearly as often  
as I'd like, but probably as often as I'm likely to see for right now--you let me see you.   
And each time I see who you are, I become more certain that I've fallen.  
After all, no one but you can fluster me and make me enjoy it.  
  
(some time later)  
Asuka found her throat dry as she read the last line. Swallowing, she laid the journal  
back on Shinji's desk and crossed back over to the bed. Settling under the covers, she  
took a long look at her husband, resting securely in the sleep of the innocent and the just.  
A fond smile flitting across her lips, she brushed his bangs back from his eyes. "Baka,"  
she whispered. She had a hard time speaking past the lump in her throat. "How on earth  
did I deserve you?"  
  
Owari  
  
The young lady who inspired this is much more Nuriko than Asuka, but she has the same ability to floor me with a smile. 


End file.
